


Hold Tight

by in_motu_proprio



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Depression, F/M, Guilt, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Mind Reading, Psychic Bond, discussion of suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-08
Updated: 2017-07-08
Packaged: 2018-11-29 14:18:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11442636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/in_motu_proprio/pseuds/in_motu_proprio
Summary: Missy is struggling with almost 18 years of the boring parts.





	Hold Tight

Missy sat in her chair reading, legs crossed demurely at the ankle. The Doctor was allowing her tremendous freedom with reading materials and that was fortunate because it was about the only thing she could do in here. Her temporal prison was bloody inconvenient at best. At worst, it was like a nightmarish hellscape that made her wish she was still the crispy old chap she used to be just so she wouldn’t want to unzip her skin every second of every day. Time moved strangely in here, one straight line that never changed direction. It was always going in the same way, always marching onward, and it was giving Missy a very real and very dreadful sense of mortality. Everything felt off and Missy found herself just a touch nauseated all the time. She was used to the world spinning out of control, of making it spin out of control, but in here there was nothing. It was all the same and it was all bloody boring. She was utterly powerless and totally disconnected from what made her a Time Lady inside her little cage. She ached for the pull in the pit of her gut that meant her form was hurtling through time and space. Sometimes she’d have to stop herself from rushing him when he came in just so she could smell the traces of Time on him, to feel them popping off his skin like hot oil when she ran her fingers over it.

Like right now, he was seated across from her at one of their chess boards, staring at the pieces with his hands sunk in his hair. Missy could almost taste the energy the Tardis traveled through just crackling around the edges of his person, clinging to his jacket. All she wanted to do was run her tongue around the inside of his mouth to soak up every last molecule of Artron Energy roaming around inside that over-coiffed head of his. Instead they sat a few feet away looking at the chess board as she felt every bit of her skin trying to pull in his direction. She wondered for a moment if he’d let her get nude and lie atop her if she asked quite nicely. He wouldn’t have to strip down, all she wanted was lie on him to soak in the little bits of energy he was putting out. Hell he could even close his eyes and pretend it was one of his mayflies, Sarah Jane or maybe Rose Tyler. She had to admit that when she peeped into his timeline over the years, she would notice this or that little human staring at him, longing for him It was nauseating. If they knew half of him what she did, they’d run screaming. Her favorite part was to watch him torment himself over their affections because he thought that any of it mattered. They’d be dead in a blink anyway, and in a lifetime or two he’d forget so what was the big deal?

When he still hadn’t made up his damn mind ten minutes later, Missy just got up and headed for the window. If she didn’t, she might do or say something that would set her back with him. He thought she was getting better, that she was changing. What Missy was doing was learning to keep her mouth shut about certain things because they upset him and _that_ was what she wanted to avoid. Just because she didn’t want to deal with his tantrums didn’t mean that Missy didn’t still think and feel those things he deemed bad. She did. Very much. And there were journals around here somewhere filled with pages about just that, what she felt and thought about that she couldn’t say to him. But those weren’t helping anymore either, even the pictures she drew with stink lines and body parts. It really was disheartening. She noted one of his stupid curls bobbing and saw that the Doctor was finally making his move. Good. She circled back and sat, making her move immediately with a raised brow as she collected four of his pieces. _Predictable_ , she thought.

 _Am I?_ Hearing his voice in her mind again after all this time, and so easily, startled Missy. She jerked back, eyes wide. The Doctor opened his mouth to speak and she shook her head, tapping her temple. _Sorry…you were loud._

 _So’s your sordid fashion history,_ she shot back as he made his move. _And yes, you are. To me._ Missy returned his move and took another three pieces out. It took her until the end to realize what he was doing, but by the time she understood that his target wasn’t her queen who was doing all the damage like Missy would have aimed for, but her king and the long game it was too late and he had her in check mate. _Twat._

 _Don’t be mean. I won fairly, you just happen to always go for body counts in this game. Now who’s predictable?_ He had that smug look on his face that she liked, the one with that little quirked brow that set off those giant caterpillars over his eyes, making them quiver a little. _We can go another round._

 _New game,_ Missy Demanded. _I’m bored of this one._

 _Got any in mind?_ He was just asking a question but Missy’s mind heard a challenge. That urge to run her tongue along his teeth and over his lips came back again, hard and urgent. His eyes went wide and the Doctor stared at her a moment before sputtering and looking away. Realizing a beat too late that he’d been in her head, Missy tried to play it off with a roll of her eyes. But he caught her hand in his and the way hers shook just a touch gave her away. _Are you well? Missy?_ His kind eyes made her want to stab them out with a fork. She wondered if he’d follow his turn the other cheek nonsense with three tines severing his optic nerve. 

_Clearly not. I’ve been stuck in here for…_ She looked up to the count she was carving in the wall near the window. _Seventeen years, three hundred fifty days, sixteen hours, five minutes, twenty-nine seconds! Of course I’m not. Seventeen years of the boring parts, Doctor. Imagine it._ He shuddered and she yanked her hand back. _I’m condemned to hundreds more years of this._ Missy closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. _Let me ask you a question,_ she posed, leaning close fast just to make him pull back. _If it were you, how long until you were hanging from that beam waiting to run out of regenerations?_ He got up, painfully uncomfortable. _There are over three hundred ways I could kill myself in this room. I’ve a list,_ she told him with a quirk of her lips. _You’d be lazy and just hang over and over. I need variety in my deaths._

“That’s not funny.” 

“Ugh, so pedestrian. Fine, lowborn. We can use our mouths.” Missy crossed her arms over her chest tightly, brows raised in challenge. “Well? You didn’t answer my question, Doctor. How long? See, I feel like I’ve already outlasted what you could manage and I’m still at the point where if you do the maths, I’m closer to zero years passed than a hundred… let alone a thousand. Are you understanding, Doctor?” Missy’s tone was harsh, his Scottish accent clouding her words just to make sure she hit home. He was uncomfortable and Missy pushed it. “How would you live with a millennia of Sunday afternoons and Tuesday nights?” He shuddered and she slapped the table hard enough to send the pieces flying. “Exactly.”

“Missy, it’s not as though I can just change the decision that was made. You… well, you’ve killed a lot of people and I gave my oath.” She threw her hands up in the air and walked away. If he couldn’t be reasonable then why bother? “But…” Oh, she liked a little wiggle room and he’d just given her space enough to park a planet in. Missy glanced at him. “Perhaps I could find you some good books or…” 

“I want time out for good behavior.”

“Missy, there’s no other behavior you could have. You’re in jail.” The moment it was out of his mouth, the Doctor seemed to know that he’d just made an incredibly dumb move. “Missy, no…”

She leaned in, not touching him but getting quite close until she was certain he could feel her breath. “Missy…. yes,” she nodded, pulling back with as insane a smile as she could muster. The look on his face was reward enough at that point so the fact that she flipped the table over was just a cherry on her sundae. “I think this’ll work.” Missy shook her hands out a few times before they started to glow.

“Missy, don’t. Whatever you’re thinking…” She took a breath and focused on making sure the energy did what she wanted it to, expelling into a cloud around her before it burst outward and knocked everything within twenty feet out of her radius, shattering glass and china and generally making her feel a whole lot better with their smashy sounds. She singed the edges of her dress and jacket and she didn’t want to think of the state of her undergarments right now, but she felt better. Just interacting with it helped, knowing that energy long since stored in her own body from the Time Stream was still in there, made her fell less like she wanted to unzip her skin. “Missy!” He was still on his feet but flush against the wall, those brilliant eyes wide open, pulses pounding in his veins. 

“Oh… that was yummy.” Missy shook her hands a few times, feeling the energy settle back down. “Mmmmmm. I haven’t done that in … five regenerations?” She turned her head, neck cracking loudly. “The one with the crispy bits, that chap needed to vent a lot.” She reached to the front of her jacket, undoing it and sliding it off. “Oh much better. It’s a bit warm, yeah? Be a love and take care of that?” Missy walked toward him, watching his pupils dilate as she came closer. She batted her lashes and waited until she was nearly on top of him to reach to her left and hang her coat up on the peg. “I would open a window, but I’m in prison you see.” 

It was when she went to walk away that his hand shot out and grabbed her wrist. But once he had it, the Doctor didn’t seem to know what to do with it now that he had it. It only took her a moment to realize that he was trembling. Instead of the triumph she’d felt only moments ago came that deep pit of guilt and worry, of defeat. “Doctor, I’m….” 

“I don’t blame you.” And there was the worst of it. This version of her dear friend forgave everything even when it ought not be forgiven. That was what made her try coming to this one in the first place. She’d traveled up and down his timeline, watching the Eyebrows pick compassion over and over. Eventually seeing those kind eyes make the decision to help others enough times made her want it for herself. At first it had been just because she knew she _could_ get him to be compassionate with her and she intended to use it to trick him, but now she truly craved those kind eyes searching hers for any trace of good every time he looked at her. She wanted to be that for him. If he needed her to be good, then Missy was going to try even if it turned her stomach. When she’d told him she needed her friend back, Missy had been sincere. “Missy…” His tone changed and she felt his fingertips move to her wrist, then down the back of her hand. “I’m sorry.” He took her hand, bringing it to his lips to kiss her knuckles. “Truly… if it were just between you and I….” 

“I know,” Missy told him softly, her other hand moving to touch his cheek. “Doctor,” she kissed that cheek, allowing her lips to linger, “I know.” She felt the air shift as he closed his eyelids, the way his body almost melted into her more than apparent even if he hadn’t let out a soft little Scottish sound. “You’ll keep coming to see me, won’t you Doctor?” Missy pulled back just a little, their joined hands pressed to her chest. “You may drive me mad, but I wouldn’t have anyone else.” She returned his kiss, planting her lips to the hard knuckles and the back of his hand before pressing it to her cheek. 

The bloody tears were on their way, she could feel it. From such heights to such depths, such was life with the Doctor. He gathered her to him, wrapping both arms around her tightly. She could feel the contrast of how cool he ran to how hot she was at the moment. “Come sit with me… if we can find the couch.” She rolled her eyes at him, but the Doctor just wrapped his arm around her waist and walked her to the sofa now on the other side of the room. “Sit. Please.” He nodded and Missy did as he asked. She was about to make a comment when he did something she didn’t expect at all. He took a pillow from the couch and laid it on the ground at her feet. “Give me yer foot.” Missy hesitated at first but he insisted so she did as she was asked. “I know what it’s like, comes out all the extremities. You’re lucky you didn’t ruin your boots entirely.” 

“Unlike some people, I focused mine.” Missy nonetheless laid her right foot in his hands. He was surprisingly efficient as he undid the fastenings of her boot then slid it from her foot. She was surprised to find that her toes were glowing just a touch and her stockings were a wee bit crispy. “Well I’ll be damned.” He smirked, smug as always, and moved onto the other foot, leaving the first sitting on his thigh. The Doctor was cautious, careful, strong hands taking off her boots and setting them aside. 

“Any better?” 

Missy noticed that he continued to hold her foot in his hands, framing it as though it were made out of porcelain. With anyone else that would have been enough to whip her into a homicidal rage at being underestimated in this form. With him it was divine. It hurt like hell, too. Not physically, emotionally. “Y…yes,” she nodded, glancing away as he gently laid her foot down. Then because she was hurting and needed to put him on his back foot Missy joked, “take off my stockings and give em a rub while you’re down there.” The Doctor gave her a little smile before getting to his feet. Then he did that thing where he looked around all scattered and wild. She could feel the madness rolling off of him and this was when she loved him the most. She had no clue what he was doing, but it was fun to watch. And frankly, there wasn’t a lot to do in here. He came back a few minutes later with two items. One was a blanket she recognized from her sleeping area and the other was a heavy cream also from her sleeping area. “I do hope you haven’t gone trouncing through my unmentionables, Doctor.” 

“I only saw one and I looked away immediately,” he teased right back. “Here. He handed her the blanket. “… I imagine I’ll have to shift your skirt up a bit. If you wanted to …”

“Shield my virtue,” Missy provided, honestly amused and a little surprised that he’d thought of something so trivial. “Are you really going to rub my feet?” 

“If it will help you.”

“It’ll make my feet feel better,” she reasoned before raising one foot to his thigh. The Doctor wasn’t shy as he carefully brought her skirts up, tucking them in so she wasn’t unduly uncovered. Missy could have cared less. Nudity, clothing, all of it was fine. She loved this skin and didn’t mind showing it off if the occasion called for it or if she just plain felt like it. The only thing that seemed to surprise the Doctor was just how high her stockings went, clinging mid-thigh. As he slipped his fingers under the top band, it loosened and allowed him to draw it down her leg. She waited until he had it at her calf to speak. “Through all of this… getting the blanket, folding up my skirt,” he set one stocking aside and moved for the top of the other one, “through all of that you never thought to just let me take them off?” 

The Doctor paused, his hands both resting on her upper thigh, encompassing it entirely as he smiled. “That is a very good point…. and no.” His hands started to move again and Missy nearly mourned the loss. Now that she was bare legged, she watched the Doctor get up and lay her stockings with her jacket then his right beside. She said nothing, just focused on his fingers as he undid his cufflinks and rolled up his sleeves. He was really going to do it then. Missy hadn’t been much for letting others touch her in this body. It just hadn’t been a drive she’d experienced with any sort of urgency. It was there, it was fine, but no one had sparked her interest. Truly, the only touch she’d ever actually enjoyed in this form was her own and the Doctor’s. And he truly did steal her breath away sometimes. “Left or right.” 

“Which do you like better,” she asked mostly because then he’d look. Missy was no fool, she knew this form was appealing, that was half the reason she’d picked it. She knew that it would appeal to him. Her aesthetic slotted into his because she intended it to. That didn’t mean she couldn’t enjoy the way his eyes felt on her skin or the touch of his fingertips on the arch of her left foot. “Left then?”

“They’re both quite nice,” he reasoned. His wasn’t just looking at her feet, his gaze kept traveling up to where her skirt was carefully folded over her knees. “I… I mean… left.” He picked her left foot up a little too quickly, giving it a squeeze. “It’s got soothing properties,” the Doctor said as he slipped two fingers into the cream. It was quite heavy and a little cold as he ran those fingers from her shin to the tip of her big toe. “Thought it might help if there were any burns.” He moved her foot, running his thumb over her instep firmly enough to get a tiny inhale from her. “Don’t see any, but does it hurt?” Missy shook her head, glancing away. “Should I stop?” 

“No.” Her fingers ran out to touch his cheek, stroking over his stubble. “Just tender. Everything’s a bit softer as a woman,” Missy said with a shrug. 

“I’ve noticed.” He meant it as a compliment but it made her want to kick him in the face. “Missy, it’s ok.” There was his hand on her knee, squeezing slick fingers in a gesture of comfort that sent a hard throb through her. She looked away this time not because she was ashamed or upset, but because she didn’t want him to see arousal in her eyes. It was all mixing up into a cluster of feelings that were making her incredibly uncomfortable to the point of fidgeting. 

He caught the arch of her foot again and Missy wasn’t ready. She let out a noise that was very lowborn. She was horrified and that was compounded by the fact that he was smiling at her. “Oh shut up… it’s not as though I’ve got a lot of selection in here.” The Doctor dug his thumb in again, right under the ball of her foot, and drug it around her instep to her heel. It took every ounce of her self control not to cry out, but she might as well have. He had always been able to read her emotions. 

“Well it’s not as though you’ve ever been a prude.” 

“I resent that,” she said with false venom, “I have barely touched another soul since I’ve regenerated. I’ve told you, she’s different,” Missy waved her hand over her form as his thumb repeated the move across her instep. Missy thought she was ready but this time he let just the slightest bit of Artron Energy seep from his fingertips into her. “Doctor.” Missy barely recognized her own voice. Most of his energy flowed against her legs but the rest dissipated into the air. She could catch a taste now and again, feel it settle on her cheek or the back of her hand. 

“Is that true?” The gravel in his tone, the sincerity in his gaze, cut through her. His hands were planted on her calves, thumbs rubbing along the places where muscles joined each other. 

“Yes.” Missy watched him shift up, his hands traveling to her knees. She was intensely grateful she was sitting down because as his thumb traveled along her inner thigh, a bomb went off somewhere in her lower half and the fallout was reaching its way over every inch of her. 

“Why?” 

Her mind tried to move fast, tried to come up with a good excuse, but he already knew the answer. “You.” He was closer, one hand moving to her hip as the other came to the inside of her thigh. Missy didn’t think her lungs were functioning correctly at this point because breathing seemed to feel kind of optional. “Just like everything in our lives,” she said when she finally found her breath, “If it was going to be anyone…I wanted it to be you.” Missy bent, her hands framing his face gently as she leaned in to kiss his forehead, the space between them heated. He moved to sit beside her, both hands around her waist. She knew what was coming and easily could have stopped him, but Missy wanted this. 

The Doctor’s lips were softer than she remembered, less angry than usual. She knew he could feel the tremor in her by the way his grip strengthened at her waist, holding her a little tighter on instinct or maybe it was more than that. Maybe the Doctor remembered. The tears came again and Missy was caught utterly off guard, pulling back as he tried to understand what was happening. “We used to lie in the tallest grasses,” she said softly as her hands grappled for his. “Do you remember how we’d lay there all day reading with the sun shining through the red stalks?” 

“You’d use me as a pillow.” He smoothed his fingers down her cheek. 

“And when the heat lightning would start out in the west?” Missy searched his eyes, needing to see her first friend there, needing to know that he remembered. 

The Doctor smiled at her, cupping her face in both hands. “I knew I’d have to hold you tighter.” 

Then he did the best thing he possibly could have, the Doctor shifted and sat in the corner of the couch, pulling her with him. He saw that Missy was comfortable, pulling the blanket over her until she was tucked in. Missy closed her eyes, trying to gather the whirlwind of her thoughts and emotions. “Your grip had better be sure then,” she warned him as she brought both his hands to her temples. “Storms. Every day, all day. Storms.” His hand moved to her back, rubbing gently because there was little either of them could do about the current situation, but he could do what they’d done since they were children. He could hold her tight.


End file.
